Xavior entered the robe shop and nervously picked at the hem of the size small girl's t-shirt he was wearing. He was nervous about being fitted for robes, as clothes meant for boy his age hung loosely off his thin frame. He smiled nervously as the tailor started placing pins and flicking his wand to fit the powder-blue uniform to him. Xavior was pleasantly surprised at the end result; starch white shirt fitting nicely and vest buttoned snugly in the front with pants clinging comfortably to long legs. He walked out of the shop with uniforms wrapped in tissue paper and a smile on his face.